


Transfer of Power

by Lone Lydia (thunderandlightning)



Category: American Assassin - Vince Flynn, Teen Wolf (TV), Venom (Movie 2018)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-09-30 10:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20445872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderandlightning/pseuds/Lone%20Lydia
Summary: The CIA recruits Stiles after John Stilinski's death for a very specific reason, but he has a few surprises in store for them.





	1. Chapter 1

**September 2013**

Stiles wouldn’t have known where he was if he hadn’t seen the Space Needle, about a block ahead of him. He was eighteen and more than a little bit drunk, which was probably going to get him arrested. He didn’t care about that or anything else, anymore. Despite everyone’s best efforts, John Stilinski was dead. Stiles had fought battle after battle to prevent his dad from eating artery-clogging meals, and a bullet from Tamora Monroe’s gun had been the thing to make him an orphan. The days leading up to the funeral had been a blur, and he found himself getting into his Jeep and driving away as soon as the coffin was lowered into the ground. He knew that some of the pack members had called out to him to stop, but he just needed to get as far from Beacon Hills as he could. Going north had been a mistake fueled by rage and blurry vision, but he was going to correct it as soon as he sobered up and made a few apologetic phone calls. Getting back to a normal training routine in Washington D.C. would be the best thing he could do for himself. For his dad. When this was all over, he was going to come right back to Beacon Hills and work his way through the ranks until he got elected Sheriff, like his father had. But he was definitely making time to hunt down his father’s killer and make her suffer. Just thinking about it was enough to clear away the fog of alcohol in his system. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to give him proper coordination, and he stumbled sideways and hit his head on the pavement when he fell off of the curb. 

“This is the guy you want to be the new me?” Mitch gave Irene a skeptical look. “Having similar features isn’t going to convince anybody of a damned thing.” They had been tailing ‘the kid’, as Mitch referred to him, since they spotted him coming out of a coffee shop, two months earlier. He shook his head and got out of the car, hefting the unconscious teen over his shoulder and placing him in the back seat. “He’s not injured too badly.” He told his handler. “I say we take him to a motel, slap him around until he wakes up, make him puke the alcohol out of his system and offer him a deal. It’s not like he’s got anything left. He’d be stupid not to take it.” 

Irene nodded grimly and drove to a cheap motel in Tacoma, where she knew nobody was going to ask any questions if they saw an unconscious man being carried from a car. When she and Mitch had been going over details of a case, this complete stranger had come out of nowhere and left her with knots in her stomach. She must have asked Mitch a dozen times if he was sure his parents had been faithful to one another; Stilinski was completely unrelated to the CIA operative, according to the DNA test they had conducted. It was just pure luck, and Irene wasn’t even sure she believed in luck. There was every chance that Stilinski could refuse to go along with what they wanted, but Mitch was right about the teenager having nothing left. She could tell by the way her operative’s fingers twitched periodically that he was angry with himself for not saving Stilinski’s father, but they hadn’t been anywhere near the Sheriff when he was shot. She busied herself with getting a newspaper and working on a crossword puzzle while Mitch tended to Stilinski and got him to sober up. After twenty minutes, both men emerged from the bathroom, the younger one fully soaked from being tossed into the shower. Irene set the newspaper aside and sat back in her seat, looking up at the teenager. “We’re prepared to offer you a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars a year, pay for your college education and living expenses while you get your degree, and train you for six months. All you have to do is agree to join the CIA.” 

“Yeah, that sounds a little too good.” Stiles pointed out, tugging his wet t-shirt away from his skin and grimacing. “What do you actually want from me?” 

“You have to ask?” Mitch looked pained, turning his head to give Irene a frustrated smile. 

“Well, I’m guessing I’m not being trained as your stunt double, since you look like you could bench press four of me.” Stiles retorted. 

“Actually, that’s a fairly accurate summary of what we need you for.” Irene remarked. “If we send Mitch to Russia, you’ll be in Norway. If he’s in Los Angeles, you’ll be in Miami. Just as an example. That’s not definitive. You’re going to be his living, breathing alibi. At least, that’s our current plan. It might come to a point when we’ll have multiple threats and need you both in control of hostile situations, but you’ll be operating under the concept of being the same person. Aliases may change to suit whatever we need you to take care of, but activities outside of work are going to be attributed to one name: Mitch Rapp.” She gestured to Mitch as she looked at the man who could have been his twin brother, despite their difference in builds. “Essentially, you will no longer exist. No phone calls to friends, no going back to Beacon Hills, no more FBI training. The life you had before doesn’t matter to this organization.” 

“How long do I have to think about this?” Stiles asked quietly. The money sounded good, but he wasn’t sure he would ever have time to spend it. Not being able to talk to the pack ever again made him feel sick to his stomach, but - “I’ll do it, as long as I can take care of something before we get started.” 

“Kid, we don’t have time for you to play Inigo Montoya. College classes are already starting and Irene’s going to have to pull strings like a puppetmaster to get you enrolled, as it is.” Mitch grumbled. 

“Okay.” Stiles said calmly, shrugging. “Then I guess you’re just going to have to kill me right now, because if I don’t get to kill the woman who killed my father, you don’t have a deal and I don’t think you’re going to let me walk out of here, knowing what I know. Mitch Rapp.” He pointed to the agent, then his handler. “Irene. I don’t need your last name. Your first name will be enough. If I go public and make national headlines for anything at all, anything you do from here on out is fucked. You kill me, you can’t use me. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got anything left.” He gave Mitch a cold smile. “Or so I’ve heard.” 

“Do you still think he’s too green to convince other people?” Irene asked Mitch, not bothering to hide her own smile. “Stilinski, we’re not here to hurt you or murder you. We need you and you need us. It’s an unfortunate event that your friends will be collateral damage, but this isn’t anything new. Every operative has had to lie or cut off contact, or both. You can either text them a goodbye message and make them think you just couldn’t handle your father’s death, or we’ll get you set up with everything we’ve just outlined for you and handle the details of your alleged death ourselves.” 

Stiles licked his lips, thinking. It would be too difficult to figure out what to say to Scott and Lydia, to convince them. “You do it.” He said finally. “The only other thing I want to know is, if I’m supposed to leave my actual identity behind, what name is going to be on my diploma?” 

“One thing at a time.” Mitch shook his head. “You’re going to major in International Relations and minor in French, like I did. You want another degree after that, you can get it on your own time. This isn’t a game, kid. You can’t take any of this back. If you’re in, you’re in for life. Or until I retire.” He smiled. “And maybe for awhile after that.” 

“Call me kid one more time and you won’t have to worry about retirement.” Stiles snapped. “If you two really did your homework, you wouldn’t actually be offering me this deal. You’d be running in the other direction.” 

“You don’t scare me.” Mitch laughed. “Like you said, I could bench press four of you.” 

“You want to trade stories?” Stiles sat down on one of the beds, looking up at Mitch. “There’s shit in this world that you don’t have a clue about. Things I’ve done that would make you weep. So go ahead and keep telling me how weak and innocent I am. I’m pretty sure the people I’ve killed would disagree with you. If they could talk.” 

Irene frowned, exchanging looks with Mitch. She reached for the messenger bag at her side, pulling out a somewhat thick file and setting it on the table. When she opened it, she started reading some of the paperwork out loud. “Age seven, lost your mother to dementia. Age eight, diagnosed with ADHD. Your father became the Sheriff when you were ten, after three years of alcohol abuse that he finally got treatment for.” She took note of, but didn’t mention, Stilinski’s clenched fists and jaw at the mention of his father. “At sixteen, you started getting traffic tickets and never paid a single one of them because your father made them go away. Restraining order at sixteen for kidnapping a classmate. Breaking and entering at your high school. These things aren’t available to the public, but it gave us a clear idea of your background and any possible mental issues. We wouldn’t have overlooked a series of murders.” 

Stiles smiled, shaking his head. “Okay.” He shrugged. “I guess that’s everything, then. You know all you need to know.” 

Irene hesitated. The teenager was too glib to be believed at face-value. “What exactly don’t we know?” 

“You can tell us, or we can make you tell us.” Mitch added. 

“I don’t think I will.” Stiles smirked. “You offered me a deal and I’m taking it. Let’s just get started with that, all right?” 

Irene felt uneasy, but she nodded. A good psychiatric evaluation would clear up any of her concerns. She didn’t often make mistakes, and she never would have offered a deal to the younger man if she thought he was too much of a risk. “Give me twelve hours,” she told Mitch, putting the file back into her messenger bag and leaving the room. She had calls to make and an obituary to write.

* * *

**December 2014**

Stiles kept watch over the city below as he decorated a Christmas tree in front of his wall-to-wall window. He had been wary of it at first, since anyone could see in, if they felt like looking up. But he was currently trying to pretend to be a wealthy frat boy who didn’t have a clue how dark the world really was. At least this way, he could watch for anyone threatening who might be watching him. He heard a knock on the door and walked past the piano, snorting to himself as he glanced back at it. He had no idea how much his apartment was costing the CIA, but the piano confirmed for him that it wasn’t being paid in pennies. “Yes?” He called out, staying clear of the door. He hadn’t exactly been expecting visitors. 

“I picked up that tree topper you asked for, Mr. Atwood.” Irene called out, smirking at Stiles when he opened the door and let her in. 

“Tree topper?” Stiles asked when the door was closed. 

“You’re putting up a tree and everyone can see you.” Irene commented. “It’s so Norman Rockwell. If Mitch saw you, he would be annoyed.” She grinned. “And now you look like the kind of asshole who sends a personal assistant to pick up Christmas ornaments. You’re welcome.” 

Stiles shrugged at his handler. “I’m having a party in a few days. Every time I start to feel stuck, I just ask myself what Bruce Wayne would do.” His lips twitched. “I used to want to be Batman. Now I’m more like Jason Bourne.” 

“You wish you were like Jason Bourne.” Irene shook her head, amused. The difference between the nearly identical men still surprised her, at times. Mitch was all business and didn’t bother with small talk, but Stiles could process pertinent information while he ranted about the latest movie he had seen, and he often switched back and forth between topics in a way that gave Irene a headache before she got used to it. “I’m actually here to talk to you about the cryptic shit you thought you were being cute about, when we recruited you.” She sat down on the couch, slipping her feet out of her shoes as she looked up at him. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have, but she had to. As long as she could relax while dealing with it, she could pretend it was just an ordinary day in her life. “You were holding out on me. Werewolves?” 

Stiles grabbed a bottle of wine and poured two glasses, setting one down in front of her before he sat across from her. He didn’t drink his, just turned the goblet around in his hands as he looked in Irene’s direction, but his gaze was on something nobody else could see. “I was sixteen and told my best friend that there was a dead body in the woods and he was coming with me to look for it. My dad caught me and my friend, Scott, hid to avoid getting into trouble. I was always the one dragging him along with me, but he complained about our town all the time. I thought, when I heard the call, that this would be the thing to make him stop bitching.” He snorted, his gaze refocusing on the woman across from him. “I was right, but not for the reasons I expected. He was bitten by a werewolf that night. After that, there was always something trying to attack or kill at least one of us. I wouldn’t talk about this so openly, but you already know, or you wouldn’t have asked.” 

“Someone or something that looked like you murdered a lot of people when you were sixteen.” Irene said bluntly. “But your psych eval was clean, or you wouldn’t be here right now. I couldn’t find anything to explain it, mundane or otherwise. I was hoping you would enlighten me.” 

Stiles was silent for a couple of minutes, one index finger raised as he stared down into his glass. He took a small drink, then set the glass down on the table between them and looked up at Irene again. “Junior year, my English teacher was sacrificing people in my town. She had my dad, Scott’s mom, and another friend’s dad.” He didn’t want to talk about Allison, so he pressed on, his words coming faster like he was trying to verbally outrun the memories that his handler had stirred up. Not that he had ever truly forgotten. “Scott’s boss was a guy in the know, and he told us that sacrificing ourselves would interrupt the flow of power that our teacher was trying to get for herself. I know this all sounds insane.” 

“A year ago, I would have said it sounds insane.” Irene corrected. “But I’m thorough in my research. I know now that there’s an entire world out there that I would prefer to have no part of. The problem is, now that I’m aware of it, I’m finding myself entirely unable to pretend it doesn’t exist. But I’ll get to that. Please continue.” 

“Okay.” Stiles said quietly. “Well, he left out some details when he told us what the risk was. I was possessed by a demented spirit. I don’t really know why it chose me. Scott and... and Allison. They were more powerful. Stronger than me. I think it was because it saw me as a good host because I was the unexpected one. But also because I used to play pranks all the time, and it loved them, too. But the idea of pranking, for it, was deadly. Open the box and there’s a bomb, or run through the woods and there’s a tripwire, and now my lacrosse coach has an arrow in his chest. He didn’t die, but he could have.” He shook his head. “But I’ve had some time to stop thinking of what could have happened. I think what did happen was bad enough. I can’t say I have stopped blaming myself for all of it. I let him in.” 

“Did you ever enjoy any of it?” Irene asked bluntly, watching the operative’s expression. She stayed calm as he glared at her. 

“No, I can’t say that I did.” Stiles snapped. “If you had a clue what it was like, being unable to control your own body while someone else used it for their own enjoyment, you... is this what it’s going to be like for the rest of my life? Are you going to ask me stupid fucking questions and wait for me to get pissed off?” 

“Actually, that’s what my job entails.” Irene’s tone was gentle. “But I’m trained to notice any discrepancy or odd phrase. You said ‘I can’t say that I did,’ not that you didn’t enjoy it. This stays between you and me, unless it becomes a matter that requires someone else’s attention. Was there any part of you, at any point, that didn’t mind letting someone else act on your base impulses? Because while your evaluation was clear, it was clear by our standards. We wouldn’t hire someone who refused to get their hands dirty. You have to be at least a little imbalanced for a life like this.” 

“Can’t you go ruin someone else’s Christmas?” Stiles grumbled, but he sat back and rested his hands on his knees before he spoke again. “There were a few moments where I didn’t mind it.” He admitted. “But he was dormant and I had to let him back in, to save someone. In that, no, I didn’t care what he was going to do. As long as she was safe. Why are you asking me all of this, if it’s not going into a report or being used as a reason to dismiss me?” As soon as he finished asking, he realized exactly what Irene wanted, and he stared at her in horror. “No.” 

“As I said, I’m thorough in my research.” Irene continued. “I’ve spent the past year working out a way for this to benefit us. By us, I mean you, as well.” 

“I’m not letting the nogitsune possess me again. Not for you or anyone else.” Stiles pointed at the door. “You should go.” 

“I wasn’t talking about the nogitsune. There are other, more compliant things that could work with you, not just take control of you. I’ve been in contact with someone I want you to speak with. Say the word and I’ll set up a meeting.” Irene didn’t want to argue with Stiles, but she wasn’t interested in hearing no from him. 

“I’ll think about it,” Stiles lied, shaking his head at her. He didn’t care that it was obvious that he had no interest in what she was trying to get him to do, but he wanted to make sure she understood. “Let me put this in perspective. Would you ask a rape victim to have sex with their attacker?” 

“Would you ask a rape victim to never have sex again?” Irene retorted. “I’m offering you a chance to consent to something that would help you, not harm you. I understand that you don’t want to believe me, since you’ve had a horrible experience. But you’ve never seemed like a quitter to me. I’d hate to think that I misjudged you.” 

“Yeah, well, everybody makes mistakes.” Stiles picked up his glass and downed the rest of it, staring out the window until Irene left his apartment.

* * *

**January 2015**

_”You can run. You can hide. But you can’t escape me forever, Stiles. I’ll find you. You think that just because you got away and the rest of the world thinks you’re dead, you’re free? No, no. You were born to be my host, and I’ll wear you again. We’ll make the whole world suffer together, whether you want me inside you or not.” _

Stiles stumbled into the bathroom, not bothering to get undressed before he doused himself in cold water. It reminded him of the night that Mitch and Irene had recruited him, and how he had agreed so readily to leave his entire life behind and become someone else. No matter what he did, he could never escape the nogitsune. Someone not in the know would insist that his nightmare was purely psychological, but Stiles knew better. There really wasn’t a way to avoid the constant taunting from the demon while he slept, and he was certain that Irene’s insistence that he discuss it with her had somehow opened the door again. It made him sick that the voice, which had once sounded like the raspy tones of a burn victim, now sounded the way Stiles did after a night of sex. He rested his forehead against the tiled wall, not sure if he was laughing or crying at the idea that his own voice promising him darkness felt good. It reminded him of fire in winter: warm and welcoming when there was a chill in the air, but too much could destroy everything. In this case, the cold air had seeped into his bones and he felt like he could never get rid of it. He turned the water to hot, doing his best to warm himself before he got out of the shower. As the hot water poured over his skin, it occurred to him that Irene’s request that he consider letting something else possess him might be the solution to his problem, since it might keep the nogitsune out. It was impulsive and irrational, but he didn’t even stop to dry himself off in the bathroom. He left his wet clothes in the tub and grabbed his phone, calling Irene. It was the middle of the night, but he didn’t care. 

“Hello?” Irene slurred in a way that indicated that she had just woken up from Stiles’ phone call. “Mitch?” 

Stiles wasn’t sure he would ever get used to someone deliberately calling him the wrong name. “Set up a meeting. You said you know someone that you want me to talk to. I’ll listen.” He leaned his forehead against the glass window pane as he hung up. It would have been more appropriate if the ground below was covered in frost, but Hawaii wasn’t known for their freezing temperatures. He realized belatedly that he was naked, but his alter ego, Nick Atwood, wouldn’t have cared about modesty. Still, he went into his bedroom to get dressed. It was only a matter of minutes before he had a text message with flight information, telling him that he was going to San Francisco in a few weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!

**February 2015**

“Mitch?” 

Stiles waved a hand at the reporter from the table where he was seated. He knew everything worth knowing about Eddie Brock, from his favorite song to what brand of toothpaste he used. Despite his curiosity, he hadn’t managed to bring himself to learn anything about who or what was possessing the older man. He knew that Irene Kennedy and some people she had never introduced him to wanted him to agree to a similar fate. He still felt uneasy at the idea of this possibly being the only way to make sure the nogitsune stayed away from him for the rest of his life. “Yeah.” He nodded to Eddie. “I won’t take up too much of your time. I don’t even know how anyone got you to agree to this.” 

“Let’s just say that there was evidence that I couldn’t exactly deny.” Eddie smiled hesitantly as he sat down and picked up a menu. “I don’t know what you’re going to get out of this conversation, though. You look like you’d rather bite my head off than tell me anything. I’m familiar with the concept.” Without giving Stiles a chance to respond, he kept speaking. “Shut up. I’m trying to be considerate. He seems nice. Fine, fine. Jury’s still out. Just wait at least an hour before you bring it up again.” He gave Stiles an apologetic look. “He doesn’t like anyone asking questions. We had a problem with someone, a while back.” 

Stiles snorted. “Do you always talk out loud to the voice in your head?” 

“I haven’t exactly mastered internal conversation.” Eddie admitted. “But it’s not that big of a deal. People just think I’ve lost my mind and they leave us alone. What is the purpose of this, exactly? Are you writing a science fiction novel?” He looked back down at the menu. “We don’t want word getting out about us.” 

“That wasn’t the plan.” Stiles assured Eddie. He didn’t want to, but he knew he had to explain himself. “I was possessed a few years ago, and for reasons I don’t want to get into, I’m trying to find a way to do that again.” 

“Lonely?” Eddie guessed. 

“No, it’s - I think if I look for something else to be a host for, the thing that took control of me won’t be able to get back in.” Stiles explained reluctantly. “You’ve figured out how to work as a team, but this thing took over my body and I couldn’t do anything but watch as it murdered a lot of innocent people.” He ordered a cheeseburger for himself when the waitress arrived, shaking his head in disbelief as Eddie ordered what had to be at least half of the menu. “How do you avoid getting fat?”

“We have ways.” Eddie shrugged. “I don’t really know how we can help you with this. Before Venom and I figured out how to work together, there were a lot of times when he attempted to bond with someone else, and none of that took. If you gave it a try with another symbiote, it might kill you. Is there really no way at all to get this thing to cooperate with you? Have you tried?” 

“He practically devoured me from the inside out.” Stiles muttered. “I was really sick by the time he left me. I don’t want to go through that ever again. Having something or someone else in place could potentially stop him from, um, reclaiming me.” 

“I’m not going to ask him that.” Eddie protested to the being inhabiting him, but he sighed and gave Stiles an apologetic smile. “Have you tried feeding him chocolate?” 

“He didn’t eat food.” Stiles felt like it was incredibly surreal to have this conversation in a crowded diner. “He fed on pain and chaos.” 

“At least it wasn’t liver.” Eddie remarked dryly. He squirmed a little, resting his elbows on the table as he looked at Stiles. “I think the risk might be too much. I’ve seen what happens to someone with a symbiote, when their body can’t handle it. You said that your demon left you sick, but these people end up practically rabid. Before we came to an agreement on real food, I was being forced to eat whatever was close by. I had to talk Venom out of eating a dog a few times. And that’s just the simple stuff. I can’t even think of how to explain to you what happens when the host body rejects the symbiote. You’re better off not trying, so you don’t die.” 

“I used to think that.” Stiles agreed, thinking of Peter Hale’s offer to give him a shot at a life of running from hunters, if he survived. “But listen, my parents are both dead and I don’t really have anyone in my life to worry about leaving behind. Not anymore. The white-collar dicks want me to bond with something, to give me an advantage. I’m pretty sure that if I keep refusing, they’ll make me do it, anyway. It would be nice if there was a way to figure out if I was a viable host. You don’t know of one, do you?” 

“I would have been able to say yes.” Eddie shook his head. “But the only person I knew who had a handle on all of this is gone. I don’t understand why you’re fine with dying, though.” 

“Like I said, I don’t have anyone left.” Stiles repeated. “I looked into your history before I came here. I wouldn’t normally discuss that, but I want you to understand that I know you. Better than I have a right to, I know. It can’t be any different than what someone else told you, before I got here.” 

“As long as you’re not going to use it to ruin me, I don’t really care.” Eddie shrugged. “Besides, we’ll eat you if you screw us over.” He smiled. 

Stiles wasn’t sure what it was, but he felt like he was being flirted with instead of threatened. While he tried to process that, he noticed Eddie’s expression changing a few times, like there was an argument happening between him and Venom. He spoke to disrupt whatever had them distracted. “You lost your job and your girlfriend lost hers, on the same day. You checked into a hotel for a week while you looked for an apartment, and there wasn’t much of anything interesting in your life for the next six months. You bought groceries from a local market. You bought a few plants, but I’m guessing they kept dying, since you kept going out and getting more. Oh, and a book on how to cope after a break-up. So what I’m saying is, you know what it’s like to have nothing.” 

“Is this going somewhere?” Eddie looked annoyed. “If I didn’t think that a bunch of suits would drag me right back into this diner, I’d leave. I’m not obligated to you or anyone else.” 

“I’m sorry.” Stiles said gently. “I’m new to all of this.” He didn’t want to explain that he wasn’t exactly a CIA agent, and he sighed in relief when a few waitresses started bringing plates over to their table, and he waited until they were gone before he spoke again. “I have nothing. You had nothing. That’s all I meant. I didn’t mean to waste your time, and I’m pretty sure that’s all I’ve accomplished.” He set money on the table for his portion of the bill, sliding out of the booth. He was hungry and regretted leaving the cheeseburger where it was, but he had a feeling that Eddie would eat it.

“Wait!” Eddie called out from behind him, grabbing his arm and pulling him into an alley.

“I’m just trying to make sense of all of this.” Stiles rubbed his eyes, stumbling backward when Eddie was overtaken by an inky black figure with sharp teeth and a wide smile. “Oh, holy fuck. Every time I think I’ve seen it all, shit like this happens.”

“We will look for someone to help you.” Venom assured Stiles. “Just stop being a whiny dick.”

Stiles laughed. He was starting to think he had lost his mind years earlier. This wasn’t a normal reaction to the massive creature that could bite through any of his limbs with no effort. Still, something about the way that the two of them interacted was charming instead of creepy, and he actually found himself feeling wistful. He had been incredibly lonely since his father’s death, and he hadn’t let himself think about it, so he hadn’t really grieved. Irene was going to murder him for what he was about to do. “I’ll stop being a whiny dick.” He agreed. “But I have to take care of something. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“But you,” Venom and Eddie protested as the inky black mass receded, leaving the human man behind, mid-sentence, “just got here. It’s not like I know anyone else I can talk to about this. My ex-girlfriend did know, but I’ve been trying to keep her in the dark about it. Maybe we can come with you. We don’t have anything else going on. I’m trying to be realistic. We can’t stop all of the crime in this city. Two days away wouldn’t be that bad.”

Stiles wanted to protest, but he found himself usually surrounded by rich idiots who thought Logan Paul videos were high quality entertainment. In the quiet of the alley, he could see a lot of similarities between himself and Eddie. Stiles wasn’t Mitch or Nick or whatever the next persona was that he was expected to adopt. He was a nineteen year old orphan whose friends thought he was dead. Or not, depending on whether or not Lydia had figured out the lie. “My name isn’t Mitch. My name is Stiles. I’m probably going to be burned for telling you any of this, but I don’t know that I care anymore.” He waited a few seconds for Venom to resurface and attack him. When that didn’t happen, he spoke again. “I’m going back to my hometown tonight, to pay a visit to my dad’s grave. He died a couple of years ago and I lost it. I took off right after his funeral and I didn’t go back because I got the opportunity to be someone else. Someone who isn’t an orphan, or a formerly possessed kid who couldn’t keep up with his friends. They think I’m dead. I can’t let them see me. As it is, just going back there is a risk. But my dad would know what to do. He would probably tell me to run and tell the CIA to fuck off. If I was a better guy, I’d take that advice.”

“But you’re not going to?” Eddie smiled. “So, can we come with you, or not?”

“I might come to regret this.” Stiles nodded. “But yeah, I’m getting sick of being on my own.” He motioned for Eddie to follow him. He had no doubt that he was being tracked by Irene or Mitch or any number of operatives he had never even met. He ignored the urge to look around, getting into his car and waiting for Eddie to get in the passenger seat.

“You can trust that we’ll keep your secret, Stiles.” Eddie spoke as Stiles pulled away from the curb. “I mean, _he’s_ not going to take over and tell anybody, and I don’t have any reason to have an entire organization of government mooks after me. If anything, you know, we’re the ones putting ourself at risk by going with you when we just met.”

Stiles glanced over at Eddie. “Are you changing your mind?” He asked lightly. “I can let you out.”

“No, nothing like that.” Eddie protested. “I’m just saying that we both have something to lose by doing this.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not the one who’s probably going to run into an entire group of people who think you’re dead.” Stiles pointed out. “But like I said, this is better than being on my own. It’s about a five hour drive, so is there somewhere you want to stop first, maybe pick up some clothes?”

Eddie considered that, but shook his head. “I’ll figure it out. Just drive. We can talk on the way, if you want to.”

* * *

“I feel like you’ve done him a disservice, not ever letting him have Reese’s.” Stiles told Eddie, a few hours later. “It’s peanut butter and chocolate. Protein. Better than being a cannibal, unless you like that sort of thing.” He parked in front of the motel and reached into the back seat for a baseball cap, putting it on. “You want me to reserve one room or two? I can afford whatever.” 

“I hate peanut butter cups, and we can pay for our own room.” Eddie protested. “You don’t have to do that for us.” 

“Look, I have a ridiculous amount of money.” Stiles smiled. “Let me spend it. Think of it as payback for being accosted by my superiors.” He went into the motel’s office, keeping his head down as he approached the front desk. For a few seconds, he found himself hopeful that a cliche would come to life and there would only be one room available. He liked talking to Eddie and Venom, and he had plenty of time to think on the drive up from San Francisco. If anything was going to happen, with either or both of them, Stiles would be more than okay with it. Real life ensued and he came back to the car with keys for two rooms. It was Beacon Hills; they weren’t exactly being inundated with tourists. 

“I’m paying for dinner.” Eddie insisted as he took a key from Stiles. “It’s only fair, and we can worry about who owes who what when we’re done here. I have a feeling that we’re going to have to save your ass from your friends, if they see you. From what you said earlier, they’re going to find you.” 

“Thanks for that.” Stiles snorted. “We’ll go to the cemetery after dinner. Or at least, I will. You don’t have to come with me.” 

“We’re coming with you.” Eddie unlocked the door for his motel room and turned to face Stiles. “I’m not telling you to be grateful for what you went through. But you without that experience? You wouldn’t have ever had a reason to talk to me. And I don’t mind knowing that I’m not alone.” He tilted his head, sighing in fond exasperation at something the symbiote said to him. “I know I'm not alone,” he told Venom. “But you have to admit that if you had someone else of your own species to talk to, you’d jump at the chance.” 

Stiles grabbed his duffel bag and unlocked his own door, beside Eddie’s. “If we can find a symbiote that wouldn’t kill me, he’ll have that chance.” He was still wary of letting something else control him, even through a mutual agreement, but he had learned a lot about Venom during the drive. It made him feel a little hopeful. He just hoped he wouldn’t have another nightmare about the nogitsune reclaiming him. The idea of Eddie and Venom hearing his terrified screams made him feel embarrassed, just knowing it was possible. He wasn’t sure why he had been so intent on coming back to Beacon Hills. There was nothing for him here, and every reason to stay away. It was already bringing back a lot of bad memories. Good ones too, but nothing he could ever get back. 

“We’ll find someone. Right now, I just want dinner.” Eddie blinked as a black tendril shot out from his side, yanking Stiles’ duffel bag out of his hands and throwing it into the younger man’s motel room. A second tendril yanked Stiles’ door shut. “I guess I'm not the only one who’s hungry.” His eyes widened a few seconds later. “That’s so... nope.” He blurted. 

Stiles was tempted to ask what new conversation he had missed, but since he had a feeling that it had been another comment from Venom about turning Stiles into a snack, he didn’t want to hear it. “I guess we’re going to find food now, then.” He shook his head, amused. 

“Yes, food.” Eddie agreed quickly. “Sustenance.” 

Stiles got back into the car, lost in thought. Eddie was at least ten years older than him, but they did have a lot in common. Injustice pissed them off and they just wanted people to be treated fairly, though Stiles had to admit to himself that Eddie was more kind in how he treated everyone around him. It was easy to admit to himself that he was already developing a ridiculous crush on the older man, but he knew better than to get his hopes up. In another day or two, Stiles would go back to Hawaii and resume his college career as Nick Atwood, while Eddie and Venom would go back to making San Francisco a safe place. They really had no reason to ever see each other again. He drove to Greta’s, the diner where he had spent a lot of his childhood, and turned toward Eddie. “I can’t go in, but if you could just get me a large order of curly fries and two grilled cheese sandwiches?” 

“What are you, six?” Eddie teased. “Yeah, I can do that.” He got out, waving a hand at Stiles as he walked toward the entrance. 

Stiles slouched in his seat, pulling his baseball cap down over his eyes. A few minutes later, he heard a knock on his window and rolled it down without looking, assuming it was Eddie, coming back to make another joke about his age. “I’d have ordered a Jack and Coke, but this place doesn’t have them.” 

“I eat, I live. I drink, I die. What am I?” 

Stiles’ breath caught in his throat. He knew that voice. He turned slowly, looking at the nogitsune through the open window of the car. “Oh my god, don’t do this.” He wasn’t sure why he thought that the nogitsune would listen to him. The trickster had gone out of his way to force Stiles to do what he wanted, convincing Oliver to try to kill Malia right in front of him. Stiles wasn’t even concerned about the being using his face, though he probably should have been. He had lost all contact with Scott and the others before Irene faked his death, so they might not have even been in Beacon Hills. But he was certain that if they were and they saw the nogitsune, they would get close without giving it a second thought. There was no way that Lydia would have been convinced by a newspaper article. Not when she would have felt his death on a visceral level. 

“You don’t have any kanima venom or werewolves on standby.” The nogitsune taunted him. “You’re out here all by yourself. Vulnerable.” 

“Wrong.” Venom yanked the nogitsune away from Stiles’ car door, lifting him into the air. “He has us, now.” 

“You can’t kill him.” Stiles blurted, his fingers fumbling with the door handle before he got out of the car. “He’s about a thousand years old and there’s no real way to kill him. All we can do is stop him for a while.” 

“I could eat him.” Venom suggested, running his tongue over his teeth. 

When the nogitsune didn’t have anything clever to say, Stiles circled around to stand at the symbiote’s side, looking up at the demon. To his surprise, the trickster looked terrified. 

“Yeah, it turns out that there are things in this universe more badass than you.” Stiles smirked. “How’s that feel? What are you doing here, anyway? Seriously, this is the last place you should have come.” 

“So I don’t get to eat him, then?” Venom interjected. 

“No!” Stiles and Eddie yelled in unison. 

“I told you that I would find you. I knew that you would come right back here to check on things, even if you tried to tell yourself it was for another reason.” The nogitsune repeated. “Can you tell your attack dog to put me down?” 

“Attack dog?!” Venom repeated. 

“He’s trying to piss you off.” Stiles said calmly. “Don’t let him get to you. It’s the oldest trick, anyway. He thinks if he makes you mad enough, you’ll throw him and that’ll free him.” 

“Sounds like a bad guy to me.” Venom remarked, lifting the nogitsune higher and opening his mouth wide. 

“The outside of him is something he built.” Stiles explained. “It probably wouldn’t even taste good. His spirit - well, he is a spirit. I don’t know if there’s really a way to get rid of him. We’ve had him trapped twice and he keeps getting out.” 

“Okay.” Venom lowered the nogitsune to the ground. 

Stiles wasn’t sure why he felt relieved, though he thought it might have a lot to do with the fact that he didn’t want to see Venom eating someone who looked just like him. His relief was short-lived. Inky black tendrils slithered off of Eddie Brock and poured over the nogitsune’s body, disappearing inside his chest. 

Stiles instinctively moved closer to Eddie, though he wasn’t sure if it was to protect him or be protected by him. “Should we be running right now?” 

“Just wait.” Eddie smiled as he looked over at Stiles, then circled around the car to put their dinner in the passenger seat. 

The nogitsune’s body trembled, then started to crack. Having seen it before, Stiles waited for the body to crumble to dust, but that didn’t happen. Instead, Venom’s tendrils slid over the nogitsune, repairing the damage. 

Eddie stepped forward, holding his arms out toward the nogitsune, prepared for Venom to come back to him. Instead, the nogitsune smiled with far too many teeth and yanked Eddie toward him for a kiss. 

Stiles closed his eyes, mortified because he was certain he was being mocked by both otherworldly creatures, and he didn’t know what Eddie was going to think of him after the kissing stopped. 

“If the two of you can come to an agreement, his possession won’t hurt you anymore.” Venom reached out to nudge Stiles. “Is he asleep?” 

“No.” Eddie answered as Stiles opened his eyes. “Just having a bad day, that’s all.” He gave Stiles a concerned look. “Are you all right?” 

“Fine.” Stiles turned toward the nogitsune, who was smirking at him. “Just get in the fucking car and don’t say anything to me until we’re back at the motel.” He didn’t want to answer any questions about his behavior. He wanted to eat and go to sleep, and then wake up in Hawaii and find out that none of this had ever happened.

* * *

“Let me get this straight.” Stiles grimaced, pressing his hand to his mouth as he fought back the urge to vomit. “You ate his kidneys and used the extra space to make a baby?” 

“Yes.” Venom smiled proudly. “He doesn’t actually need any of his internal organs and I can reproduce asexually, but he used your DNA to create the body he’s inhabiting, so now you’ll have a symbiote that will be bound to you without question. Besides, since he doesn’t actually need the body he has, convincing him to create a uterus was easy.” 

Stiles lifted his hand from his mouth and put it over his eyes. “Oh my god. Why would you do that? That’s probably the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“You are not grateful?” Venom receded, leaving Eddie in his place. 

“I’m grateful.” Stiles frowned. “But this is the sort of thing you discuss with a person instead of just assuming it’s what they want. There’s a risk that he’ll be more powerful now and use that to his advantage.” 

“I’m sitting right here.” The nogitsune waved, smirking at Stiles. “It’s more simple than you’re making it sound. I’ll bond with the symbiote and then you will, so it’ll be the three of us. You don’t have anyone left, Stiles. You could use some help, right?” 

“I don’t want your kind of help.” Stiles shook his head. “This whole thing is insane. I should just call my handler and tell her I quit.” 

“But you have a lot to do, don’t you?” The nogitsune tilted his head. “Your friend told me. We can go kill the woman that murdered your father. We can kill anyone who deserves it. If I promised you that I wouldn’t hurt another innocent person, would you believe me?” 

“I don’t trust a word that comes out of your mouth, no.” Stiles muttered. He looked over at Eddie. “You have it easy. If you tell Venom not to do something, he actually listens. This piece of shit locked me away inside my own head and I couldn’t do more than watch while he killed everyone around me.” 

“Your friend Scott gives second chances to everyone, doesn’t he?” The nogitsune interjected. “Can’t you?”

“So you can manipulate me all over again? What part of no is confusing to you?” Stiles stood up. “I need a minute to think.” He went outside, leaning against the wall that separated his motel room from Eddie’s, where the four of them had been discussing what to do next. 

“I know this isn’t easy.” Eddie pulled the door shut behind him as he joined Stiles outside. “Would it help if we were close, just in case things went to hell?” 

“I don’t know if that would be okay or not.” Stiles admitted. “Right now, I’m supposed to be earning a college degree in Hawaii, under a name that isn’t even mine. I’m not sure how everyone would react to Venom body-slamming the nogitsune in the middle of a frat party.” He snorted. “But it wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve ever seen, if it came to that. If it came to a situation where he went back on his word, I would want you and Venom as far from me as you could get. I think if I do agree to this, you two should just go back to San Francisco and forget I exist? I mean, that seems to be what I’m having everyone else do, anyway. It’s like I might as well be a ghost.” 

“But you’re not a ghost.” Eddie frowned. “If you don’t want us around, I get it. It’s not like we’ve known each other all that long.” 

“Except for the fact that you researched me as much as I researched you.” Stiles pointed out. “Let’s not pretend otherwise.” As soon as they were on their way to Beacon Hills, Eddie hadn’t made any attempt to hide the fact that he was looking up everything he could find on Stiles. “It’s a little invasive, but I think we both have trust issues, so it’s forgiven. If you want to come stay with me, we’ll just tell everybody that you’re my cousin. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve used that lie. I don’t want to agree to this. To having the nogitsune possess me again. But I know what happens if I don’t. I’m hoping Venom’s got it right and things will be different now.” 

“He’s a good guy.” Eddie nodded. “And he likes you. He doesn’t want you to get hurt.” 

Stiles smiled, pleased that he had managed to make a good impression on the symbiote. He didn’t want something that size to ever be pissed off at him. “I’m trying to prepare myself for this, but I feel like I can’t even make myself go back in there.” He said quietly, gesturing to Eddie’s motel room, where they had left the nogitsune. 

“We won’t let anything happen to you.” Eddie put a hand on Stiles’ back, between his shoulder blades, and used his key to open the door to his room again. “I know it’s a lot, asking you to trust us when you don’t know us all that well. Just on paper. But we have your back.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Holy shit.” Eddie blurted, backing away from the window in Stiles’ apartment. “Do you have any idea how terrifying that is?” 

“I like it.” Stiles shrugged, smiling. “Okay, so I know I'm being annoying, but can we go over it one more time?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Your name is Nick Atwood. You’re a fratboy douchebag. I’m your cousin, and I just got a divorce, though I don’t know why you need this much detail. None of the people you know are going to care why I’m here.” 

“Yeah, until one of them asks you how we know each other.” Stiles got the tray of tater tots out of the oven and set them on top of the stove, to cool. He could feel his stomach rumbling, but it felt more like a contented purr than hunger. 

_‘You don’t have to be cousins.’_ The nogitsune whispered to Stiles. _‘You could tell everyone that he’s your boyfriend.’ _

Stiles pinched his own arm and wondered if the nogitsune could feel the pain from it. Probably not, but it at least made him shut up for a little while. During the flight from San Francisco, the fox spirit had been aggravating him, going through all of his memories and commenting on them like he was critiquing a movie. Everything was still new, but Stiles was confident that the symbiote would keep the nogitsune in check. He used a spatula to put the tater tots onto two plates, drizzling chocolate syrup over one and holding it out toward Eddie. He was a little startled when Venom reached out through the man’s midsection and yanked the plate away, but he was getting used to that, too. “You know, if someone had told me that this is what my life would become, I would have never believed them.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie agreed. “In the span of six months, I lost my girlfriend, my job and my apartment, and became a host for an alien life form. And we’ve been like this for a few years now. So you don’t have to tell me how strange it is.” 

Stiles sat down across from Eddie, watching him eat in morbid fascination before he spoke again. “I’ve dealt with werewolves, witches and the Wild Hunt. Like, the actual thing. It’s like every mythological thing I ever read about as a kid is real.” 

_’What are you so afraid of?’_ The nogitsune laughed, but only Stiles and the yet-to-be-named symbiote could hear it. _’Tell him you think he’s hot. You’re an adult now, Stiles. You’ve fought a lot of things, including me, and won. Why is this the thing that scares you?’_

“You look preoccupied.” Eddie commented. “Big conversation going on in there?” He gestured to Stiles’ forehead.

“No, it’s not.” Stiles said quickly, shaking his head. He cleared his throat. “Does the chocolate syrup work? I mean, for the tater tots. Since I don’t have any other chocolate around here.” 

_’Subtle. You don’t sound flustered at all.’_ The demon laughed. 

“Oh my god, shut up.” Stiles muttered, running a hand over his face. He got up from the table, opening his fridge to look for absolutely nothing, just to get away from the awkward situation he was in. “Can’t you just leave things alone?” He whispered frantically. “Getting involved with someone isn’t possible for me right now. Maybe not ever. I’ve got too much going on, and even if I wanted to ignore all of that, there’s the fact that it wouldn’t even be a couple, it would be a fucking quintet. Uh, no pun intended or anything.” 

_’Well, fine. But you do want him, don’t you? You didn’t deny that.’_

Stiles grimaced as he closed the fridge door. “I need a minute.” He said quickly, walking past Eddie and going into his bedroom. He shut the door and sat down on his bed. “What difference does it make?” 

_’Maybe I don’t want to have a host who is going to annoy me all the time with how fucking sad he is. Maybe I think that since we’re in this body together, we should get to have fun with it. You want me to behave myself, but you’re so resigned to never taking a risk. Let me do it, if you don’t want to.’_

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Stiles had barely gotten the words out when he was standing up involuntarily and walking back toward the door. “I said not to do this.” He braced one hand against the door, even as his other hand was trying to open it. 

_’It’s not me doing it. It’s the baby.’_

**’Not a baby,’** The symbiote protested. 

_’Well, look who decided to finally say something. Sorry Stiles, I think this means you’re outvoted. We’re telling Eddie that you want him.’_

“Don’t.” Stiles closed his eyes, frustrated, as the nogitsune took control of the hand he had been using to stop the symbiote from opening the door. He could feel himself being propelled through the apartment and practically tossed into the seat he had vacated, at the table. 

“Is everything okay?” Eddie finished the last of his chocolate-covered tater tots and wiped his hands on a napkin. “It takes some time to adjust to this.” He reminded Stiles. “You’re not going to get along with the symbiote right away, and from what you told me about the nogitsune... the three of you have it worse than Venom and I ever did.” 

Stiles felt his mouth opening, and he clamped a hand over it, shaking his head as he looked at Eddie. He wanted to tell him to leave, but it was just to spare himself the humiliation that was about to occur. 

”So the thing is, having you be our cousin isn’t a good idea.” The nogitsune spoke with the calm ease he always had while pretending to be Stiles, and Stiles didn’t have any way to tell Eddie not to listen.

“Because we don’t look alike?” Eddie guessed. “That was kind of what I thought, too.” 

“No, it’s because I think we should have sex.”

Stiles had never been more relieved to be a host to multiple entities, because he could feel the symbiote moving forward and taking control away from the nogitsune. 

**”There is too much fighting happening, inside us. Are you interested or not?”**

“Well, I mean, yes?” Eddie said carefully. “But if the three of you can’t agree, then no. Especially if Stiles doesn’t want me. Believe it or not, we can already tell the difference between all of you.” 

**”We told you, didn’t we?”**

Stiles was certain that his face was red when the symbiote and the nogitsune congratulated each other on manipulating him into an awkward situation, where Eddie and Venom couldn’t hear. “I regret so much of this.” He shook his head, but he realized he was smiling fondly. Things weren’t as bleak as he had expected, but that was typical for him. “How would this even work? Have you had sex since you...” He waved a hand toward Eddie, indicating the fact that Venom shared a body with him. “I guess my real concern is that there would be a running commentary in our heads that neither of us want.” 

“I’ve never had any cause to find out.” Eddie said quietly. “I guess we could at least give it a try and see how we feel, afterward?” 

“In other words, everybody shut the hell up.” Stiles stood up, resting his hands on the table between them and leaning down to kiss Eddie. He felt arms grabbing him and pulling him across the table, and he wasn’t even sure if Eddie had done it or if Venom was the one responsible. He didn’t care. He rested his hands on the back of Eddie’s chair and repositioned himself in the man’s lap, smiling crookedly. “Yeah, they’re right. The cousin idea has to go. It never works out, anyway.” 

“I’ll have to go back to San Francisco sooner or later.” Eddie looked regretful as he said it. “And I think we both know this can’t be permanent anyway, right?” 

“Right.” Stiles said easily. “That’s one of the reasons I wasn’t even going to say anything, but I was told that I was outvoted, so... we’ll just take whatever time we have together. But just so we’re all clear, how long do you have before you have to go?” 

“Two weeks.” Eddie ran a hand up and down Stiles’ back. “I thought that would be enough time to help you transition. Or whatever word you’d rather use for it.” 

“All I really want to do right now is get you as far away from that window you hate as I can, without leaving the apartment.” Stiles moved sideways, standing up and gesturing toward his bedroom. “To be honest, we could spend the next two weeks sleeping and talking and I’d be okay with that, but I’d be lying if I said that was all I wanted.” 

Eddie stood up and put an arm around Stiles’ waist, pulling him close for another kiss. “I wasn’t going to say anything, either.” He murmured. “I’m glad they all like to meddle in things that are none of their business.” 

“A couple of hours to ourselves would be good, though.” Stiles grinned, moving backward as he gripped Eddie’s forearms, pulling the older man along with him, though he wasn’t being met with any resistance.

* * *

“How long until you have to go?” Stiles asked, even though he already knew the answer. It had been two weeks of spending every spare moment together, since ‘Nick’ had to attend classes and go to a few parties, just to keep up appearances. In the end, he had decided not to bother introducing his friends to Eddie. It would have only complicated things, and two weeks of not inviting anyone over was fine with Stiles, as it was. 

“An hour.” Eddie wrapped an arm around Stiles’ waist and pulled his lover back against him. “I packed everything last night because I don’t want to get out of this bed until I absolutely have to.” He kissed Stiles’ neck. “The second you end up in California again, you’re going to call me, right?” 

“I could be persuaded.” Stiles teased. He traced over Eddie’s fingers with one of his own, trying to prevent himself from feeling sad. He had known that things would end up this way, so he wasn’t surprised. But he had convinced himself that he could handle a relationship that wouldn’t become emotional. ‘How do you do this?’ He asked the nogitsune. ‘I need help.’

_’Keep yourself busy. We’ll find something to do when he’s gone. You’re not allowed to sit around and mope. Besides, we’re hungry.’_

‘Why don’t you just feed on my pain, then?’ Stiles hated the idea of it, but he knew that if it would help sustain him, or at least part of him, the nogitsune might as well take advantage of it. It was a better plan than letting him run around Hawaii and cause problems. ‘I should call you Stitch.’

_’Why?’_ Came the baffled response. 

‘Oh my god, we’re having a movie marathon this weekend.’ Stiles rolled over to face Eddie, smiling faintly. “I’m going to miss you. I know this was supposed to be a casual thing, but I’m not so sure I succeeded at that. You’re the only person who really knows what the hell I’m going through.” 

“You could tell someone else.” Eddie suggested. “I know it won’t be the same, but you’re bound to find someone else you trust, who you can talk to about all of this. And if that never happens, like I said, I’ll be in California.” 

“I’m coming back.” Stiles blurted. “I don’t know when, but I’m going to come find you whenever I get the chance. I’m not saying wait for me or anything, you know? It’s only been two weeks, and that would be insane, wanting someone to wait indefinitely.” 

“Yeah, crazy.” Eddie agreed, smiling. “About as likely as being a host for an alien.” 

**’Make them stay.’**

“No.” Stiles blinked, then gave Eddie an apologetic look. “Sorry. Internal discussion. I thought you were weird for this. It’s the new normal, now.” 

“Anything you want to tell me?” Eddie stretched out on his back, putting an arm under his head as he looked over at Stiles. 

“No.” Stiles repeated, laughing. “But I know there’s a lot you haven’t told me, too. You had an entire conversation last night, while I was making dinner.” He grinned. “Please take a cooking class when you get home. You need to feed Venom something other than tater tots and chocolate.” 

“He also likes to bite the heads off of criminals.” Eddie said nonchalantly. “Protein.” 

“I’m dreading the moment that this one starts doing that.” Stiles admitted. “But there are a few people I wouldn’t mind seeing beheaded.” He could feel himself retreating as the nogitsune pushed forward. 

“This is really not sexy. The two of you are bad at bedroom conversation.” The nogitsune complained. “I could feed off of my own pain at having to hear this.” 

“I think you’re just mad that we don’t have time to keep you entertained. Everything isn’t about you, you know? Venom and I split things... uh, maybe seventy-thirty. And there are two of us. You’re going to have a smaller portion than that, unless Stiles needs you for a specific reason. You can do some things that he can’t. But you need him to survive. Also, if you step out of line, Chaos is going to eat you.” Eddie grinned. 

**’With ketchup.’** The symbiote agreed. Because of the nature of their bond, the alien had decided that Chaos was the name it wanted to be known as. 

“Okay!” Stiles wrapped an arm around Eddie and snuggled against him, closing his eyes. “We’re all just going to lay here until the alarm goes off, and then we’ll deal with reality.” 

“That sounds good to me.” Eddie lifted his head to kiss Stiles. “If I could stay, you know I would, right?” 

“Yeah.” Stiles tried to smile, but he couldn’t quite manage it. “But you can’t, so let’s not talk about it, okay? Just forty-five more minutes of being in denial about everything.” 

“I could spend thirty of those making sure you don’t forget me.” Eddie said quietly. “I’ll need the other fifteen to take a shower, though.” 

_’If you say no, I’m murdering your mailman.’_

**’I will help by eating his face.’**

“Yes!” Stiles blurted, trying to drown out the whispered plotting that was taking place in his brain. “Yes, god, shut up.” He looked at Eddie. “Not you. Unless talking prevents you from doing whatever you’re about to do.” 

Eddie laughed, then moved to lay on top of Stiles, kissing him again. “I’m going to miss you.” He moved his knees to either side of Stiles’ hips, sitting up and looking down at him as he started to rub his lover’s shoulders. “I know you freaked out about the difference in our ages, but I have to tell you that I wasn’t the most responsible person in the world, even just a few years ago. I was the kind of guy who hid when someone was holding a gun in my friend’s face and threatening to kill her. You? You’re not that guy. You’re the one who would risk getting shot to save your friend. Some people would call you stupid, you know? Because you risk yourself like that.” He shook his head slowly. “But you’re better than me. And I’m lucky that you wanted me.” He moved his hands to Stiles’ chest. “If I could stay, I would. You know that I would. I’m... I want you to meet Anne. She’s a lawyer, and she’s tougher than me, too. I guess I have a type.” 

“This is you making me not forget you?” Stiles teased. “Telling me about the ex you’re still friends with?” He put his hands on Eddie’s thighs. “We could just talk, you know? I’m not going to forget you the second you’re gone.” 

“I don’t know when I’m going to see you again.” Eddie murmured. “I don’t want to have any regrets.”

* * *

Stiles kissed Eddie goodbye in his doorway. He had thought about going with him to the airport and saying goodbye there, but he didn’t really want to delay the inevitable any longer than either of them had to. His muscles ached and he had already stopped Chaos from ‘fixing’ him twice. When the door closed, leaving Stiles alone in his apartment, he leaned forward against it and closed his eyes. 

_’Okay, this is pathetic.’_

Chaos must have agreed, because Stiles found himself yanked backward and dropped into a seated position on his couch. Black tendrils shot out from his shoulders, dividing into separate pieces, each one with a different task. In a matter of seconds, _Lilo and Stitch_ was playing on tv. Stiles kept his gaze on the screen, but he was more than content to retreat and let the others watch the movie. He had other things that would keep him busy, like college classes and parties. He was going to spend a year in France, starting in autumn. There wasn’t any real time for him to mope about being alone, but he hadn’t realized how lonely he was until he met Eddie Brock. His existence wasn’t even his own, anymore. He was a host body for a demon and a symbiote, and the degree he was working hard at earning wouldn’t have his name on it. When he obtained that, he was going to have to pretend to be Mitch Rapp, or Mitch Kruse, or whatever surname the CIA wanted him to practice signing like it was his own. Everything suddenly looked bleak and dull. It was like Eddie had taken all of the color out of the world in the five minutes he had been gone. 

**’Get up, dumbass.’**

Stiles nearly went face-first into the glass window that let him look out over the beach. “Could you try to have a little more control when you throw me around?” He rolled his eyes, but he looked out at the sky. 

_’How can you be sad with a view like this?’_ The nogitsune protested. _’I’m impressed by it, and I’ve been around a hell of a lot longer than you.’_

“Yeah, except you were trapped in a box. Like a mime.” Stiles snorted. “Look, I don’t want to be sad. Nobody actually wants to be sad. But I barely felt like myself before I went to San Francisco, and now that Eddie’s gone, I’m back to having to pretend to be someone else all the time.” 

**’But you would have to do that, no matter what. You cannot tell anyone else about us.’**

“No, just Irene Kennedy.” Stiles agreed. “Because she would try to get me possessed by something else if I didn’t tell her. And great as all of this is,” he gestured to himself. “I don’t think we need anyone else.” 

_’Let’s just finish this movie and go for a walk. Or a run. Maybe we can find a criminal and torture him. And feed me. And then we can eat him and feed Chaos.’_

“Why did I agree to this? It’s disgusting.” Stiles muttered. 

**’Protein is not disgusting.’**


End file.
